


All In A Day's Work

by flipflop_diva



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Missions Gone Wrong, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 17:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10701468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: The mission was going perfectly. Until it wasn't. And then it was going completely different from how Steve would have imagined. But he would do anything to protect her.





	All In A Day's Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Impala_Chick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/gifts).



The mission was going perfectly. Until it wasn’t. 

It was never supposed to be anything complicated. Just an easy in and out to gather intel. They’d heard rumors Rumlow had been there earlier in the week, possibly planning something, but surveillance had shown the warehouse and the surrounding land was deserted. 

They had been hoping they would get lucky, that someone had left something behind, leaving some hint of information on what his actual plan seemed to be. Gather henchman and pop up in various areas around the world were all they had so far, and it had been six months since the man had come back on their radar. They were in need of some luck.

Natasha had been going to go in alone, hack into the computer system, see what she could find. At the last minute, Steve decided to come with her for backup.

“Just in case,” he had said, and she’d shrugged.

“Don’t think I can handle things myself?” she’d asked, but she had smirked at him when she said it, her eyes almost twinkling in the darkness of the hangar. They had decided, even though there was no evidence of any life around the building, that it was still better to go under cover of darkness.

“I know you can handle yourself,” he’d shot back. “Maybe I just don’t want to be without you.”

He’d grinned when he said it. Natasha had rolled her eyes at him, before turning around and heading up the ramp of the Quinjet.

“You know, there are easier ways to get a date,” a voice had whispered in his ear as he’d watched Nat walk away. Sam. He and Wanda were coming along, too, mostly to give them more practice. Steve wanted them to stay by the Quinjet and scan the outside while he and Nat went in.

“Who says I want it to be easy?” Steve had said, and Sam had laughed.

A few hours later, they’d arrived at and entered the building without incident. It had seemed like it had been deserted for months, rather than just days. There was nothing in any of the rooms on any of the floors, except a lot of dirt and trash.

“This isn’t right,” Natasha had said at one point. She looked around, a frown across her features. “They had to have left something behind.”

A crackle in their ear alerted them to Sam and Wanda.

“Maybe try underground,” Sam said into their ears. “Just got word from Hill back at headquarters that there seems to be something built below the building.”

“That would explain it,” Natasha said. “We’re on it.”

It took some searching, but they finally found the entrance. A non-descript door in the back of a closet that no one would ever find if they weren’t looking for it.

“Here goes nothing,” Natasha said, entering first, guns out.

The spiral stairwell behind the door led down at least a few stories. Three, Steve decided, as they finally reached ground level. 

It was darker and colder down there than it had been up above. The walls and floors were all made of cement.

“Like a bunker,” Steve observed.

“A highly secure one,” Natasha said. “Our comms aren’t working.”

He frowned and fiddled with his, but she was right. 

She nodded at him and led the way down the hall. There was no sign of anyone else but them, no sound of anything but their footsteps.

The found the security center pretty quickly. Steve took up a post at the door while Nat got to work.

He peeked back at her a couple of times. He would never tell her, but he loved watching her work. She was always beautiful, full of strength and grace, whether she was fighting or just being, but when she was gathering info, the way her hair would slip over her eye and the little crease between her eyebrows … Steve almost couldn’t tear his eyes away.

She looked up at one point and caught him staring.

“Almost done,” she said. If she knew he had been thinking about things other than the mission, she very politely didn’t point it out.

Steve turned back to look out into the hall, almost considering putting down his shield and taking a rest.

He shouldn’t have thought that.

“Ten more seconds,” Natasha said behind him, and then, “Oh. Shit.”

He turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“I …”

A noise interrupted whatever she was going to say. A very loud hissing.

Steve looked up to see pipes suddenly bursting seemingly out of nowhere in the ceiling, a white sort of gas billowing out of them.

He reached for Nat. “Run!”

She yanked the drive out of the computer, shoved it in her pocket, grabbed his hand.

The gas was everywhere, filling the room in almost seconds. Steve put his shield up in front of his face, kept his grip firm on Natasha, started to run.

He didn’t see them appear, just felt the bodies as he plowed straight into them. Natasha cried out behind him, her hand almost being ripped from his. He whipped his shield around, hearing the thuds as people fell.

But there were too many.

He felt a sharp sting on the right side of his neck, turned his head to see Natasha fall right into someone’s arms and then felt himself falling too before knowing no more.

•••

He woke up on a cold, hard floor. A hand was on his arm, stroking him. Almost lovingly. Steve opened his eyes. Natasha was sitting next to him. It was her hand rubbing him. But even stranger was the way she was looking at him. Eyes wide, almost glassy. Her expression almost like she was starving and he was the best piece of meat she had ever seen. He had never seen her look more beautiful.

“Nat?” he asked carefully. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

She blinked, almost like she hadn’t realized he was awake.

“Nat?” he asked again.

Her eyes finally settled on his. “They gave us something,” she said. “I don’t think I can control it much longer.”

“Gave us what?” He tried to assess how he felt. Stiff, hot. Very, very attracted to Natasha.

_Oh._

“Can’t you feel it?” she said. She stopped stroking his arm, suddenly reaching down to grab him through his uniform.

He yelped, mostly in surprise Natasha let go, horror crossing her face for just a moment, before the other expression returned.

“They gave us some kind of aphrodisiac?” he asked. “Why?”

“So we can’t think about anything else,” Natasha said. “I think it’s working.” She opened her mouth to try to take a deep breath. Looking at her closer, Steve could see she was sweating. Shaking a little.

“Okay,” he said. “So we let it wear off then.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” Natasha scooted back a few feet, like she was trying to get away from him. She probably was, now that he thought about it. She took another deep breath, and this time her face contorted in what looked like pain.

“I can’t think,” she whimpered.

Steve stared at her. There was definitely something wrong. He’d never seen her like that before. Her face was turning red, and she was visibly struggling. She bit down on her lip, so hard Steve though he could see a drop of blood.

He took note of his own body. He was definitely flush, more than definitely aroused, but it wasn’t that much more of a struggle than it had been back in the day being around a girl who had definitely not been thinking the same things.

But Nat ….

Oh. It hit him. The serum. It was counteracting whatever they had given them, but Natasha was so much smaller than him, and so much more vulnerable.

“Captain America and Black Widow.” 

A voice seemed to come from above them. He looked up, just barely making out what looked to be a speaker perched in a corner of their small prison. 

“What do you want?” he demanded instantly.

“You two came in here looking for a little fun. We thought we’d have a little fun on our own,” the voice said. It wasn’t computer-enhanced, but Steve didn’t recognize it either. It definitely wasn’t Rumlow. Maybe one of his henchmen?

“By drugging us?” he asked.

“Captain America and Black Widow going at it could sell for a lot of money to the tabloids.”

Steve glanced over at Natasha. She seemed to be struggling to pay attention.

“So you’re doing this for money?” he said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Too bad you won’t get any.” Steve kept his voice firm. “Not going to happen.”

“That’s okay,” the voice said. “You might be able to keep it together. But she can’t. And we have a lot of willing people who will help her out with that.”

Steve was on his feet in his instant. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Rogers.”

Steve turned. Natasha had managed to get to her feet. She was bracing herself against the wall. “It’s okay.”

“It is _not_ okay!” he almost roared.

“Up to you,” the voice. “We’ll be watching.”

There was a sound of something being cut off. Steve looked back at Natasha. She was shaking her head. When he frowned at her, she mouthed something at him. It took a couple of tries for him to get it.

_No cameras. Just audio._

He glanced around the room, concluding she was probably right. The room seemed made of solid cement. It was possible there was a camera in the speaker, but it would have a very limited view if that were so.

He moved closer to her. She was still standing, her back and her head pressed against the wall. He could hear her breathing growing ragged. The closer he moved to her, though, the harder he could feel himself growing. 

He hated this. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was also afraid of not touching her. If she got worse — and he knew she would — would the men behind the speakers try to take their turn? He still had his wits about him, but so far they had managed to surprise them. Could he really take them on, even if it were to save Natasha from being raped?

As if she knew what he was thinking, Natasha moaned. This time she sounded like she was in pain. He watched as her legs gave way and she sank toward the ground.

He reached out automatically, grabbing her arm, holding her and helping to lower her so she couldn’t fall.

“Don’t touch me,” she whimpered.

He knelt down so he was eye level with her. “Why don’t you let me do this? If you want?” he asked.

Natasha shook her head. “No,” she managed.

He hated that the first thing he felt was disappointment. Here was his chance, getting to finally touch her, feel her … But she didn’t want him. But of course she didn’t want him. She had never indicated she had, and it was wrong of him to want to take advantage of her now.

He was so busy berating himself that he almost missed that she was still talking.

“Can’t do that to you,” she was saying, almost panting by now.

“What?” he said. “No. You’re doing anything to me.”

Natasha shook her head. “Shouldn’t … have to …. sleep with someone … you don’t want …”

“But I want,” he said almost immediately, and it was probably only the effects of the drug that he didn’t turn bright red. “I’ve wanted for a long time actually.”

He had, hadn’t he? He knew the drug was messing with him, but this was Natasha. His beautiful, gorgeous best friend Natasha who he’d kissed on an elevator and slept with in a bunker the night before they took down Hydra and dreamed about every once awhile after that even if he never brought it up again.

He did want this.

“Are you … sure?” Natasha panted out.

“Are you sure?” he asked her instead. “I need you to be sure.”

“I’m sure. Oh, God, I’m sure.”

And then, as if she thought he might change his mind right then and there, she practically threw herself at him. Her arms went around his neck, her lips met his, and her weight against his toppled him backward on to the ground, Natasha coming with him.

He didn’t care. He brought his hands up, pressing his palms against the side of her face, his lips meeting hers fast and almost rough. He could feel her teeth knocking into his before she shoved her tongue into his mouth.

It was messy and almost awkward, but Steve could feel himself almost mesmerized by the taste of her, by the feel of her smooth skin between his palms.

He needed more.

He rolled them over so he was on top of her, pulled back just for a second to locate the zipper on her catsuit.

“Steve,” she whimpered. “Please. More.”

“I know,” he told her. “Just give me a second.”

Her right hand gripped his arm, her nails digging into the skin. She closed her eyes, her body already writhing on the ground before he had even really done anything.

He felt his dick grow even harder inside his uniform just looking at her.

He finally found the zipper, tucked next to her breasts. He grabbed it and yanked, pulling it down as fast as he could.

She seemed to realize what he was doing and struggled to sit up. He didn’t want to rip it — somewhere in the back of his mind the image of him carrying her back to the Quinjet completely nude turned him on even more — but he could feel his patience running low as she squirmed below him.

They finally managed to get her out of it, throwing the garment to the side of the room. She lay back on the floor, and Steve had no more room for taking anything else slow.

He slipped a finger into the crotch of her panties and yanked, the material ripping easily. Her sports bra came off next, the torn material flung somewhere over their heads. 

And then he was jamming two fingers inside her. She moaned, the sound delicious in his ears. She was already so wet, soaking pretty much, juices running all down his hand and his thrust his fingers.

She meant every pump with a buck of her hips, her eyes now scrunched closed, her mouth open, her back arched.

“Yes. Steve. There. More. Please,” she moaned, and he felt like he couldn’t stop, speeding up his fingers, thrusting them harder.

He lifted his other hand to fondle a breast, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezing hard. Her hands clasped on to his arm, her nails digging in once again.

“Don’t stop,” she cried, and he didn’t, finger fucking her for all he was worth, watching the flush rise on her cheeks as her body moved in time with his tempo, until soon — sooner than he would have normally liked — she was shaking and crying out his name, her whole body tense as her muscles clenched around him.

He slipped a third finger in before her orgasm could completely subside, suddenly needing to see more. She moaned again, this time louder than before, shifting her body to open her legs more, to give him more room.

He leaned over her to kiss her as he fucked her with his fingers, swallowing her cries as he brought her over the edge a second time.

She opened her eyes when she finished.

“In me,” she whispered. “Now.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He was so hard, so incredibly hard. He could almost feel the pain she had been in before.

He yanked down the zipper on his own suit, practically throwing the clothes off of him, yanking off his boxers without taking the extra second to lower them properly.

He didn’t care. Clothes could be replaced. This moment maybe never would.

Below him, Natasha bent her knees, spread her legs more. He slipped between them, lifting her legs to place them over his shoulders. She reached down, grabbing his dick, and together they positioned himself outside her entrance.

He moved a little first, letting his head swipe her from entrance to clit, and she moaned, but he couldn’t wait.

He pushed inside her, not stopping to let her get adjusted. She cried out — in pain or pleasure, he wasn’t sure — but he kept going, pushing himself insider her until he was buried in her.

Buried inside Natasha, the most beautiful woman in the world.

He leaned forward again to kiss her, pushing her legs, still over his shoulders, up against her chest, spreading her open even more gloriously.

And then he began to move, rutting into her as he kissed her, feeling her hands entangle in his hair before leaving scratch marks down his back. He didn’t care; they would heal. Instead, he pumped into her harder, faster, listening to her moans and her cries.

“Faster. Please,” she whimpered at one point, and he did as he was told. He was full of her. His lips on hers, his hands on her hips, holding her so tight there would for sure be bruises, his cock inside her.

He thrust into her, faster and faster, going deeper and deeper, angling his hips so every thrust made her cry out just a little bit more.

Finally, he drew his lips away from hers, pressed them near her ear.

“Come for me, Natasha,” he said, and he let go of her hips with one hand to drag a rough finger across her clit.

That was all it took. She came with a scream, her muscles tightening around him in the best way possible, pulling him after her, feeling his release squirt deep inside her.

“Again,” she commanded once they’d had a moment to breath. He hadn’t even slipped out of her.

He smiled down at her, in the back of his mind noting that she looked a little more aware by now, before pulling out.

She started to protest, but before she could get very far, he grabbed her by the hips, flipping her over on her belly and entering her from behind, kissing her shoulders as he pumped into her, keeping her against the hard floor until he felt her shatter beneath him.

•••

It might have been hours before they stopped. It might have been minutes. It was all a blur, of teeth and lips and hands and the glistening wetness between her legs.

When they finally finished — rounds later — he held her against him in the corner of the room, his arms locked securely over her chest.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

“Like I can think.”

She tapped on his arm, her signal to loosen his grip. He did, and she turned around, flipping over so she was facing him, her breasts against his chest.

She lifted a finger, traced his lips. 

“Thank you,” she said.

“No regrets?”

“No regrets. You?”

He smiled. “Definitely no regrets.” Something caught his attention and he frowned. “Except one thing.”

“What?”

“How do we explain this to Sam and Wanda?”

“Do we need to?”

“They’re coming now.”

“What?”

A noise sounded outside their cell. A moment later, their door was thrown open.

Natasha buried her head against Steve’s shoulder. He felt her laugh. He grinned up at his two friends, standing there with their mouths literally hanging open.

“Hey,” he said. “We can explain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was written for impala_chick for the Smut Swap 2017. I really wanted to keep it going, but it was going to venture into more plot and less porn, which seemed odd for a smut fest, but I hope you enjoyed what is here!


End file.
